Comatose
by anonononom
Summary: Elizabeth Kathryn Pan had been waiting her whole life to set off in an adventure and that's exactly what she gets when Neverland is in need of a hero. But how can she save Neverland when she doesn't know the good. . .from the bad?


**Authors Note: Yes, the title for the story is based off of the song Comatose by Skillet. I don't know why , but I seem to name a lot of my stories after songs I like and it's becoming a habit. =)**

**Any way. . .I plan to post often but I want to start something okay? The more reviews my stories get, the more often I'll post. But if there are less post, then it will take longer for me to post the next chapter. Tell me what you think so far okay, but be fair. It's the first chapter it's going to be a little slow, but the next few will be more quickly paced. **

**Chapter One**

Elizabeth lied her head on the white classroom wall. She felt trapped in the small room that she shared with the rest of hell's demons. The teacher had given up long ago on teaching her last period of the day and resided at her desk as the rest of the students began with the normal routine of spit balls, gossip, and fighting. Elizabeth silently took out her iPod and hid it in her jacket so she could listen to her music undetected. As far as she was concerned, if the teacher wasn't going to teach, then she wasn't going to pay attention.

Elizabeth stared into space as the rest of the class indulged in the regular case of high school immaturity. As a senior a new hope had began to rise from Elizabeth as she would soon be able to leave her hometown and embark on some unknown adventure. She had longed for it since the day she knew how to walk and at 11:15 she would be able to leave her home without her fathers say. She had been waiting ever since her father's first tantrum that he was nothing but a child with a bottle in hand.

Though Elizabeth loathed her father, she was a exact replica of him in a feminine form. She had wavy blond hair that fell to her shoulders and ocean blue eyes. She was pretty in an unique way but none of the boys at her school ever took notice not that she cared, if she ever like someone it wouldn't be anyone immature that's for sure.

The bell rang and the rest of her senior class ran out into the hall with yells of glee. Elizabeth stayed behind taking her iPod out from it's hiding spot and turning up. She was halfway out the door when the teacher called her. Elizabeth respectfully took out her headphones and walked to Mrs. Robert's desk.

"Elizabeth, I wanted to talk to you about the auto biography you were supposed to write yesterday," Mrs. Roberts said calmly.

"I turned it in. Is it not there?" Elizabeth asked slightly worried.

"No, No. I have it, I just have a few questions that's all," Mrs. Roberts reassured her.

"I wanted to ask why you never mention your family. In fact, you never mention anything besides what you plan to do later in life. Is there anything I should know. . .something on your mind?" Mrs. Roberts asked concerned.

Elizabeth swallowed hard. She was angered by the question. So what if she hadn't mentioned her family, to Elizabeth she didn't have a family that she was proud of. Her father found sanctuary in a beer bottle and her mother left the first chance she got. That wasn't exactly something Elizabeth wanted to talk about with anyone. And in that case, how was she supposed to write about it? Was it supposed to start off like, "Hi, my names Elizabeth Kathryn Pan. My fathers a jobless drunk who lives off of well fare fraud and my mother left after I was out of the oven," how would any of that sound normal or even seemingly sane to put in a stupid literature essay?

"No Mrs. Roberts, nothing is wrong. And forgive me if I sound rude, but I just found it silly to write about my family when the purpose of an **auto** **biography **is to write about yourself in any way you please," Elizabeth stated eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh-well, I see your point. Well you did a mighty fine job an your paper. One of the best I've ever seen. I do hope that you can succeed in all the adventures you have set out for yourself," Mrs. Roberts told her trying to shake off the embarrassment of being shown off by a girl half her age.

"Thank you Mrs. Roberts," Elizabeth said and walked out the door, relieved that Mrs. Roberts had not gone into further questioning.

The hallway was still crowded with students and Elizabeth shoved her way through the madness. She was pressed against the lockers but managed to pry it open and put her things in her backpack. She crammed into the crowd that was making its way to the door and Elizabeth listened to her music trying to distract herself from her fading patients.

"But you gave it all away  
When I needed you to stay  
Just open up your arms I need you here  
I can do this on my own  
I got nothing left to show  
Open up your arms I need you here,"

Elizabeth hummed along with the words as the crowd became more packed and she was squeezed into the center. In one strong push, Elizabeth was forcefully removed from the crowd and hurtled into the steel lockers.

"Watch were your going, Freak!" A shrill girly voice cried and the pack laughed.

Elizabeth kept herself together and lifted herself back to her feet. She reminded herself this was her last year, but what came after that? She didn't have enough of her own money to get into college and the only job she was experienced in was babysitting. The one thought Elizabeth hated weaseled into her mind and told her she could never embark on any adventures with ought money and she tried her hardest to shake out the thought, but it was too late and her shoulders hung in defeat.

All to soon did Elizabeth come face to face with the home that she never could seem to escape. Elizabeth knew what was waiting for her and she feared Mrs. Roberts may have asked her father about the paper. Whatever she had "done wrong" today, her father would yell at her for it and after almost eighteen years Elizabeth was almost at the last straw.

With a final breath of courage, she opened the door only to be meet by a beer bottle soaring to her head.

Elizabeth quickly ducked and the bottle crashed onto the floor spraying alcohol everywhere.

"Stop moving!" Her father screamed childishly.

Elizabeth had known he'd be drunk, there wasn't a moment in her life were he wasn't. He grabbed another bottle and took a sip before throwing it at Elizabeth who dodged it like the first.

"Stop it!" He whined.

"Stop throwing them at me then!" Elizabeth yelled at him.

"Don t talk to me like that! I'm your father, dammit!" He spat her, throwing another that hit her in the arm.

Pieces stuck into her skin and she cried out as blood began to fall slowly at first, but more quickly the more she tried to get the bigger pieces out. Elizabeth wasn't going to pushed around by this baby in disguise any more. She ran past him and instead of running to her own room, she ran into her fathers and locked the door. She slumped down and pulled her knees to her stomach as her father banged on the door causing it to shake.

"Get out here and face me like a man!"

At times Elizabeth had no idea what her father was talking about. Sometimes she felt as if he was reciting a line out of a book he read or something he saw on TV, but now he said in a voice that was unlike his. It was deep and husky as if he was mimicking who ever had originally said the sentence. Elizabeth admitted it, she was scared. She didn't want to see what would happen when she finally opened the door.

Elizabeth stood up as her father continued hammering his fists and she walked around for a bag and other things to pack. She had hoped she wouldn't run until she was finished with school, but at this point she wanted to be any where but here. After a few painful moments of searching she came across a small box hidden under the bed.

She opened it and saw a small leather bag, a dagger, and a thimble. Elizabeth wondered why her father would keep any of this useless junk. She placed the dagger and thimble in her pocket. She wouldn't necessarily call it stealing, just. . .permanently borrowing. To her all of this was worth nothing so her father wouldn't possibly know or mind that it was missing. Her attention turned back to the small leather pouch and she opened it. It was filled with what seemed to be gold dust. It was so bright that it shone on Elizabeth's face and almost blinded her. She took out a small handful as the banging began to die down. It felt as light as air in her palm and suddenly it began to wrap around her hand and stuck in place.

Elizabeth gasped as the rest of the substance crawled from her hand, up her arm, over the rest of her body, and finally covered her face. Elizabeth gave out a short scream, for all she could see was the bright flacks of dust. At the sound her scream, the banging started up again and Elizabeth wished she hadn't locked the door. She wanted all of the dust off even if it meant facing her fathers wrath.

It would be nice to say Peter opened the door in time to get the pixie dust off of his daughter apologized for treating her the way he had for so many years and they would make up and live like a happy family. But if that had happened, there wouldn't be a story.


End file.
